I'm Not Alone
by Prayer Machine
Summary: Mami lives.


The smell of chocolate really did not mix with with bleach.

She had no reason to judge this witches's taste, however. In fact, it was nicer than some of the labyrinths she had been plunged into, and it was certainly one of the most ordinary she had experienced. The witch, too, was tiny and giggling. It was almost cute, but how deceptive looks could be.

Never mind, she looked easy. Which was exactly what the new girls would need - a nice and easy target to begin with. She would let them draw the first blood and get used to their new abilities before coming in for a grand _Tiro Finale!_

**"Stay cautious, girls! She might look like a piece of cake,"** a giggle caused her eyes to scrunch slightly at that pun, silently slapping her own wrist for just how awful it was. **"But she will not go easy on you. You both have great potential, but this is the experience you'll need. Don't let it go to waste, now."**

Preparing her weapon, she smirked - and fired a perfect shot straight through that nasty little witch. She tumbled aimlessly from her seat - not really fighting back. She'd obviously caught her off guard. Brushing back a lock of hair, she conjured another gun - but held off firing it, letting the other girls get a chance.

Ah. Seeing Madoka fight was truly something that touched her heart. Her eyes, gold like a lilly, shone brilliantly as she fought back tears. The little archer girl seemed so brave now, so strong. She was finally good at something. She would be a fine magical girl, with her soft attitude and caring nature. If witches were capable of it, Madoka would have inspired hope in even them with her grace and abilities.

Biting her lip, she knew no one would see her cry right now. So she let a tear slide, and another - before quickly brushing them off on her sleeves. Not very civilised of her, but she really did need to watch the girls. Maybe she wasn't the best mentor, but she had to try, for them. She had to protect them, because for once... For once she wasn't alone.

Childhood memories swept back into her mind, rivers of gold lace that seemed to shimmer more and more the deeper into loneliness she spiralled. She had had friends, so many friends. Even a boyfriend or two - though of course not at the same time, but still crushes that came and went. A girl who loved the outside world - she did not dedicate much time to her parents.

They'd raised her well. She could remember deep smells of oolong tea and the strings of a violin being delicately tuned. Yes, they'd raised her to be polite and well mannered - as she was and continued to be. They taught her to be cultured and education, as she was and tried to be. They died for her, and she had never stopped regretting that.

When life was breathed into her anew, she had forgotten them. In that hollow cavity, breathing heavily - eyes wild and wide, she had clung only to her attachment to life - clung to that need to survive. It had paid off, she'd been given life - and a chance to defeat death. This job wasn't glamorous. For all the time she had neglected her parents in favour of her friends... Well, they had, one by one, begun to slip away.

She stopped feeling crushes. The outside world seemed impossibly large and riddled with dangers. Where once she could have gone anywhere, her wing tips stretching as far as France and looming over Japan - now, she was locked in her territory. Roaming wasn't an option when so many lives rested on your shoulders.

She didn't mind though. Not any more.

That crushing loneliness that had begun to eat her up had been sliced apart by Sayaka's swiftt sword and Madoka's beautiful bow. She wasn't alone any more. She wasn't alone any more! They could carry the burden of the city on their backs together. March, three girls with the power to save, march with their heads held high and their hearts fluttering proud. They would trade Grief seeds, swap information like gossip and turn witches into games. She didn't need the friends she had lost. She didn't need to be protected, she could teach, she could protect, she could become strong. She would be their big sister, the mother and the father she had lost - and one day even they would eclipse her.

She leapt into the air, spinning and firing shotgun after shotgun. The pain would be worth it. It would be so worth it. **_"Tiro Volley!"_**she called, her childhood rushing through her skin - her happiness golden on her face. Shot after shot came crashing down, crushing that spindly little witch.

Grinning as it lifted into the air, last life draining from it - Mami came to land beside the other two girls. Warmth flushing through her, she laughed, **"I didn't even need to use my Tiro Finale. Good work, girls!"**

And yet there would be no celebration, not yet.

As she closed her eyes, the smile on her face lifting through her - she didn't notice that worm uncoiling. She didn't notice until Madoka murmured a cry, she didn't notice until jaws came snapping down right beside her.

Blood splattered across her face.

Sayaka was dead.

She stood there. Shock. So shocked. How... How did this happen? She couldn't hear anything. She couldn't here bones crunching. Couldn't hear the scream and the cry.

She didn't move.

A hand touched her shoulder - she whirled around to grab it - swallowing, trying to think of something to say - but it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

The witch took Madoka's head.

Screaming. _SCREAMING_ was the only way she came back into focus. The beast still had Madoka's body hanging from between it's teeth, like a delicate pink tongue, hanging there. Screaming, screaming, screaming - she suddenly realized she _had to live_. She had to live, because the alternative was death, right? She'd avoided it once, forced to make this... This horrible contract without choice because she HAD TO LIVE.

Whirling, whirling, whirling - static in her mind and tears clouding her vision - she leapt into the air. She dodged through cake after cake. Ribbons unfurled, gold and delicate, wrapping around that horrific beast. Gunshot. Gunshot. Gunshot. A groan. A cry. A moan. all she could hear was gunshots. She didn't think of anything.

When the worm fell, and she with it, she didn't care when the dungeon faded and rain hit her face. She didn't care that she lay soiled in a puddle, rain scraping against the cold pavement. She didn't care because who else would? She had lived for people. Lived to be admired, lived because she had to. She had been freed from her suffering, for a moment.

Freed only to fail them.

She pounded the water. It splashed on her face. She wept. She wept and she wept and she WEPT. She was so useless! So utterly _useless_. She couldn't even help others become stronger than herself. How had that witch done it? She was sure it had been defeated, so sure...

When she lifted her head to the bleak skies, she swallowed deeply. Closing her eyes, she stifled another cry, rocking and nursing a wound that would not heal. Her gun was conjured. She lifted it to her head.

She was so alone on this earth. She had promised to protect them. To teach them. To help them. She'd failed them, she'd let them die. Why did they have to die? They were only young. Little girls. They hadn't yet felt true pain, true burden, true sacrifice. They were still having fun, as a magical girl.

She almost pulled the trigger.

She never did.

_What would be the use in that?_

Dropping her gun, she balled her hands into fists, slamming them against her eyes. **"I have to live,"** she said, so slowly, so silently. **"If I die, that's eternal loneliness, isn't it? "**A world of black would stare out before her, gnashing its ugly teeth. Here, at least, maybe she could meet another girl like Madoka. Maybe she could still save another's life. There was still hope. She would live, and die as a magic girl - that, that carried hope.

Standing, she picked up the Grief seed, pushing it against her chest.

**"I'm so sorry, Madoka. So sorry, Sayaka. At least you... You're not alone. You have each other. I'm sorry,"** she looked back up to that sky, **"But I have to ****_live_****."**


End file.
